


See You Around The Orbit

by regnantqueen



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Character, Romance, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28753251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regnantqueen/pseuds/regnantqueen
Summary: Danielle Collins is an astronaut, which used to be cool, but when there are superheroes flying across the galaxy it's a little less glamorous. But then the most glamorous and most gay superhero of all rescues her from a mission gone wrong. Danielle learns that superheroing isn't everything it's cracked up to be - and that maybe Carol Danvers is looking for something simple in her complicated life.Complete.
Relationships: Carol Danvers/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 13





	1. Rescue

I knew working in space would be dangerous when I signed up for the Stark Space Initiative, but it's not like it used to be; with modern technology, going to low Earth orbit is like going to Antarctica; serious, challenging, but, for the most part, safe. But of course there are still risks. 

So when the micrometeorite hit, breaking the derelict satellite we'd been disassembling for recycling into a thousand speeding shards, snapping my tether and damaging my suit, I couldn't help but curse the optimism of the woman who'd wanted to reinvent herself a few years earlier, and left her whole life behind to become an astronaut. Me, namely.

"Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is Adventure 5, Danielle Collins, transmitting in the blind, requesting assistance," I repeated, again. SOP called for me to repeat this formula every one minute until I re-established contact with someone. All I heard back was static, which could have a number of causes: Adventure, our shuttle, could have been destroyed by the blast, or it could just be that the cloud of debris was interfering with transmission. The latter option meant the comms outage might clear up and help would be on its way. The former almost certainly meant rescue wasn't coming, and I'd live until I ran out of air or hit a piece of debris. 

"Mayday, mayday, mayday," I repeated a minute later - at least the clock on my HUD was still working. "This is Adventure 5, Danielle Collins, transmitting in the...holy shit!"

The impact had put me in a gradual vertical spin that I was powerless to stop. And as I rotated, I saw, for just a moment, something glowing brightly in front of me in the emptiness of space. It was far away, and my spin took it quickly out of view. 

"Adventure 5 transmitting in the blind, I'm seeing something out here, I don't know what...aah!" And as I came back around, she was right in front of my face, bright like a sunny day, a beautiful white woman in an aura of golden light. She reached out and caught my arms; my spin kept my legs moving up against hers, my velocity making the impact hard, but she took it without flinching to bring me to a stop, and smiled reassuringly. She moved her mouth, which was strange in a vacuum, but no stranger, ultimately, than the fact that she was here or that she hadn't taken on the velocity of my spin. Of course, I couldn't hear her; I shook my head. She nodded, and pressed her forehead to my helmet.

"Hi Danielle," came a tinny voice through my helmet. "Can you hear me now?"

I managed to nod. "Y...yes."

She grinned and raised her hand to give me a thumbs up. "How's your O2?"

"Still, uh... a few hours." 

"That's good. Your suit took a hit, seems like your receiver is out. I've been receiving you but you weren't receiving me." Her eyes wandered to the side for a moment as she focused on something else. "Adventure Actual, Danvers. That's confirmed, I have her and we're on our way back, over." She paused, and then: "Roger that, she's fine." 

I studied her while she was distracted. I knew who Captain Marvel was, obviously; there were a lot of mysteries about the huge battle between the Avengers and the alien invaders in upstate New York, but the general story was understood, and there were plenty of pictures of the aftermath, including the red-and-blue clad woman who other survivors spoke of reverently. In the wake of the incident, the nom-de-guerre Captain Marvel had come up alongside her real name: Carol Danvers. Her history had become more widely known, even if the details were vague: Air Force test pilot, pioneer female aviator, mysterious disappearance, mysterious reappearance with superpowers. My eyes lingered on her short hair. I wasn't sure if she was incredibly gorgeous or if the shock was playing havoc on my emotions or if I was hallucinating this whole thing as my oxygen got low. My HUD seemed to show O2 was a quarter full, but that's exactly what I WOULD hallucinate, surely. 

But it didn't feel like a hallucination as she pulled away from my helmet and hooked my legs with her arm to carry me in her arms (like a bride, my brain helpfully noted) through space. We couldn't talk like this, which was simultaneously a relief, as I tried to pull myself together in the privacy of my suit, and crazy-making, as an unbelievably beautiful woman carried me in her arms without even the possibility of intimacy. 

Approaching Adventure from this angle and this position and this speed - she could move much faster than we could with our navigation packs - was surreal, which didn't help steady my nerves. Also surreal was the way she put her forehead back to my helmet outside of the ship's airlock. "You're safe now, Danielle."

"Thank, thank you," I squeaked out. 

She smiled. "See you around the orbit." And she flew off faster than my eye could follow.

I got a medical check as soon as I was inside, from Sujin, our mission commander. "Elevated heart rate," she said. "That's to be expected." She didn't know the half of it. 


	2. Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I...I..."
> 
> "You...have a crush on Captain Marvel," Faye provided.
> 
> "No!" I protested. "I...no! I..." They let me sputter out. "Is that...bad?"

Ten days went by, and I swear she wasn't always on my mind. I thought about her, sure, but there was re-entry, debrief, quarantine, psychological evaluation, a haze of tasks and trials and procedures. Then the press started, and the world went mad. 

The SSI's PR people aren't scum. The future of the program, they explained, was at stake, and they needed us in order to spin the story. Nonetheless, they protected us, supported us - me most of all. Everyone wanted to speak to the astronaut who survived tumbling through the vacuum by herself. Everyone wanted to speak to the woman carried through space by Captain Marvel. 

The fact that I was transgender seemed to draw in predatory journalists looking for a salacious past or an exotic angle. They didn't care that I was the second transgender person and the first trans woman in space; they just wanted to know what my junk looked like. Those people didn't get access, and my schedule was grueling but survivable. 

So there was a lot going on, and I wasn't just sitting and pining for her. But did I think about her? Of course. Did my face feel hot when Faye, my PR handler, told me there'd be a ceremony, a gala event with Captain Marvel and the crew of the Adventure? Why yes it did.

I bought a dress, spending more than I should tailoring the respectable navy garment to flatter my broad shoulders and narrow hips. I showed it to Faye. They smiled a knowing smile. 

"Is that look...good?" I asked them.

"It's a lovely dress, Danielle." 

"So..."

"So. What was it like when Captain Marvel carried you in her arms?"

I blinked. "It was...I mean...you've heard this. Everyone asks that."

"No, Danielle." They raised an eyebrow; that knowing smile deepened. "I've been there for every interview. They all ask 'how did you feel when Captain Marvel found you?' Nobody asks what it was like when she carried you in her arms."

"I...I..."

"You...have a crush on Captain Marvel," Faye provided.

"No!" I protested. "I...no! I..." They let me sputter out. "Is that...bad?" I asked finally. "I mean, is that like...a PR...problem?" 

They laughed. "God, no! Quite the opposite if you ask me." They winked. "People love a good happy ending, if I can just get you two kids together." My face must have reflected my horror, because they held up their hands. "Kidding, Danielle. My job is to protect you and your privacy. Your secret is safe with me."

I took a breath. "Really?" 

"Well...on one condition," they added, smirking.

I didn't like that expression at all. "What?"

"You have to answer my question. What was it like?" 

I took a deep breath"Well, I mean..." I shrugged. "I'm gay."

* * *

Despite Faye's teasing, I lived through the 36 hours until the gala, and having Faye on my side had some advantages. "Let's get you a blowout," they offered. "It's on the company card, don't worry." And the morning of the gala: "Don't do your makeup," she texted. "Makeup artist coming at five."

And I have to admit, when I showed up to the gala, Faye walking me through the corridors of an incredibly fancy hotel, we passed by a full length mirror and I had to stop to look. My unruly frizzy hair fell in graceful brown curls; my skin glowed and my eyes sparkled blue, some wizardry of cosmetics. 

"Yeah?" Faye asked, after letting me stare. 

"...the dress fits well," I offered.

"That's because you're wearing it well, pretty lady," they answered.

"Thank you," I murmured. 

"It's the truth." 

"No, thank you for..." I gestured at the mirror. "That."

They grew serious. They could do that, when they needed to. "It's just a blowout and some make up," they said. They stepped behind me and looked at my reflection with me. "That's you."

"Now come on," they said after letting the moment linger. "Let's bring the princess to the triumphant hero." 

"Like an offering?" I said. I intended to sound aggrieved, but it sounded thirsty even to me. 

They laughed. "You wish." 

And then we were in the ballroom. Me, and Faye, I guess. And her. 

It wasn't a photograph. It wasn't through the visor of my suit. On the other hand, she wasn't literally glowing with luminous golden energy at the moment, but she might as well have been. She wore her familiar uniform, but the colors were more vibrant than they'd seemed in the vacuum, as was her hair, a crown of gold combed back with a purpose, that seemed to whisper in my ear hey femme, I'm butch.

I have to say though, it was her voice that did me in. "Excuse me, Ms. Danvers," Faye said as we approached. "This is Danielle Collins." 

And she turned her full attention to me, and smiled, and said "Hello, Danielle Collins." And I realized I hadn't really heard her voice before, just a tinny vibration from her skull through the helmet of my suit, an echo of a rattle. Her voice was high, soft, but still carried confidence and command. It made me lean closer. She offered her hand to shake, but when I raised my own, she took it by the fingers and squeezed gently, like I really was a princess and she was about to kiss my hand. 

From a man I would have read it as a vexing power move; from her it seemed flirtatious and - well - gay. My heart practically stopped in my chest. Faye met my eyes as they turned away and communicated _oh my god_. 

"Good to see you under better circumstances," she said.

"Thanks to you," I offered. 

She shrugged. "I'm glad I could help. Did I read that you're the first trans woman in space?" 

"Oh!" I had to start talking immediately to stay ahead of the blush. "Yes, that's me. I mean, two years ago I was, anyway. I just barely went up ahead of Natali Andova with the European Space Agency. And there are a few other women in SSI now."

"Really? You know them?"

I nodded. "Well, two of them - Kendra Jackson I instructed, Jane LaVoie reached out when she was applying and I coached her through it. And they're connected to the two other girls."

"That's amazing." 

I was fully blushing now; my cheeks, ears and neck all felt hot. “Thanks.”

"Sure. I just love that you're all supporting each other. It sounds like being a woman test pilot in the 80s." 

"Oh...Right." Of course she had experience as a gender pioneer; I felt like an idiot. But if she noticed my awkwardness she wasn’t thrown. Instead she launched into a story of the old days, her and a friend named Maria raising hell in a tiny town in New Mexico outside an airfield. Another woman featured prominently in the story, a bartender at their favorite spot named Jill. 

“I had such a crush on her,” Carol confided. Her eyes sparkled and met mine. “Maria gave me such a hard time.” 

I found myself laughing along. “So, did you…?”

She put a finger to her lips. “A lady never tells.” We both laughed, and she reached out and lightly touched my arm.

* * *

The ceremony itself was too long, with too many speeches by too many people; it was really for the cameras, not for us. Carol and Sujin both made blessedly brief remarks, and we all took the stage with Carol for a photo. Then it was all over; we were hustled away by SSI PR. All of us except for Carol. I looked back at her and found her looking back. And then someone came up and spoke to her, and she turned away. Within moments, she was surrounded by well-wishers. 

There were two private cars out back to take us out without dealing with the press. I stopped short, and looked for Faye. Frowning, they came and pulled me aside. “We’re on a schedule.”

“I can’t...I should have…” I looked back toward the ballroom. 

They took a deep breath, and sighed. “You go,” they said. “I’m on it.” 

I ran back into the ballroom; it was emptier now, guests departing. Carol was no longer mobbed, though she was talking with some suits, SSI execs or donors most likely. I walked over before I could process how terrified I was. "Hey, Danielle!" she said as I approached. "Danielle, do you know..."

"I'm so sorry to interrupt," I said, interrupting once again before I got dragged into anything other than my stated purpose, “but, Ms. Danvers...could I have a word?"

"Of course. Excuse me," she said to the suits. She offered her arm. I took it automatically, and she led me a little ways away. "I'm glad I got a chance to talk to you again," she said, and fixed me with a teasing look. “And call me Carol. What's up?"

I forced a smile to acknowledge her polite command. "Of course, um, Carol. Would you like to..." I froze. I had not thought up past this point. What on earth did one do on a date with Earth's mightiest hero? A movie or a meal in a restaurant seemed too pedestrian, not to mention too great a risk of her being recognized and mobbed.

I had to say something. “...Would you like to have dinner?” I finished, and immediately I wanted to die. I sounded like a middle schooler. 

But she just studied my face. "Dinner?" She looked surprised, but not unhappy. “Yeah,” she said, nodding slowly. “I’d like that. Would you, um…” She looked sheepish. “I don’t really go out much. It gets weird. Would you like to come to my friend’s place?” 

I cocked a head uncertainly. "Your friend’s place?"

She nodded. "A very old friend. I stay with her whenever I'm on Earth. I'm not really a chef but I do cook dinner for her a few nights a week since she's so nice to host me. Maybe you could come next Tuesday around six?"

I was on mandatory paid leave following the accident, standard procedure for any SSI employee following an accident like I'd been through. There had been press, but this gala was the culmination of that effort. In other words, my schedule was wide open. But really, if I’d had a surgery scheduled I would have cancelled it. So I replied instantly, with no hesitation, "Yes. I'll be there."


	3. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why, Carol Danvers, is this a date?"

When I went to get ready for dinner on the following Tuesday...well, it was a whole new world of stress. No makeup artist, no ball gown. There was only one person I felt like I could turn to. After all, Faye had insisted that I spill everything about my conversation with Carol.

"Are you asking as an SSI PR representative?" I asked.

"Danielle, sweetie, honey," they began.

"Are you?" I asked.

They sighed. "No."

"So this won't get worked into any press releases or leak to the media?"

"Eww! No."

"Or be a part of any media strategy?"

"Danielle. Cross my heart and hope to die. Now spill."

Their response when I got to the part about dinner was a full on squee. And of course, they very quickly turned to what I was going to wear. When I expressed utter horror and dismay, they volunteered to be my stylist the day of.

We went through just about everything in my closet and settled on a black jumpsuit I'd half forgotten in the back of my closet. It flattered my figure, and we could make up for the the lack of color with the right accessories: a red leather belt, matching earrings, and a green pendant necklace that Faye, with their usual sense of tact when they weren't in public, said "brought out my assets nicely, both of them." They tried to quiz me on what underwear I was wearing but I shut that right down.

I did acquiesce to their help with makeup, however. I felt like anything I did was always either too much or too little. Faye counselled a very light look, and helped with my eyes and lips and gave me just a touch of blush. My hair was fine, nothing like the wizardry of the other night but it fell in pleasant curls, even if there were already stray frizzy hairs starting to form. My hair was largely a matter of luck and humidity, and at the moment fortune was with me.

We left my apartment early with a full hour to spare, and then they insisted on driving me instead of letting me take the bus as I'd planned. "Please," they said, "anything could happen to this carefully crafted look out there. We're keeping you under glass until the last possible moment."

"Thanks for this," I said, after a few minutes silence as we drove through the streets. "It's nice not to have to do this alone."

"Hey, I'm in it for the celebrity gossip," they cracked. 

Carol's friend, Monica, lived in a humble brick apartment building. I waved goodbye to Faye and buzzed up. I'd waited in the car until I was just three minutes early.

A black woman a few years younger than me opened the door. She was intimidatingly beautiful and for a moment I was thrown into doubt about a very basic premise I had taken for granted, that Carol and Monica weren't dating. But her greeting was warm and genuine. "Nice to meet you!" she said. "Carol wanted to come meet you, but..." She gestured around at all the units around us. "It's easier this way." I nodded; if folks realized that Captain Marvel was staying here it might not be such a good place to crash for very long.

"Hey, Danielle!" Carol called from the kitchen when I stepped into Monica's apartment. It was simple and pleasant, neat but lived in. 

"Hi, Carol," I called back. I'd been practicing saying her first name into the mirror, petrified that "Captain Marvel" or "Ms. Danvers" would slip out. "Your place is lovely," I told Monica as she led me through the living room and into the kitchen. And it was - not fancy, but comfortable.

"Thanks," she said with a lopsided smile. "It's home."

We came into the kitchen. Carol wore an apron over black trousers and a blue button down blouse. The color was very close to the blue on her uniform. I found something winning about that, as though she didn't dare to step outside a very narrow range of color options. The apron was worn, stained, and a bit too small - Monica's, I imagined.

"Hi!" she repeated, turning from chicken she was cutting to face me. There was a momentary confusion over how we should greet - wave, handshake, hug? We both moved toward each other, hesitated, stopped. "Sorry," she laughed, breaking the moment by holding up her hands. "I'm all chicken-y." 

Whereas I was just a chicken. 

"Here, I can take that." Monica took the bottle of white wine I’d brought. "I'll get this in the fridge. Would you like anything? Beer, or we have a bottle going already?" 

I nodded. "Wine would be lovely." 

There was an uncertain silence. Monica stuck my bottle in the fridge, and withdrew an open bottle, from which she poured me a glass. Carol returned to her work. I hovered. The uncertainty of a maybe-first date was multiplied by the uncertainty of a third person in the room, and of...well, the fact that the woman putting chicken into a pan with sizzling peppers and onions was a superhero. 

Monica came to the rescue before things could get too strained. "So, Danielle, I have to ask." She sat down at the small table, gesturing for me to do the same. There were three chairs squeezed in, I noticed, but not really room for three place settings. What did that mean?

"About what?" I asked. Nightmare queries crossed my mind.  _ Have you had the surgery? Did you know Carol is my girlfriend? Do you really think you have a shot with a superhero?  _

"I mean, you're literally an astronaut,” Monica said with a laugh. “What's that like?" 

I laughed in relief. "Oh, I feel strange talking about maintenance and construction missions in low earth orbit when there's a galactic traveler in the room." 

Carol shook her head. "It's not important how far you go," she said, glancing up from the pan. "What matters is how hard you work, the risks you take. I think it's amazing." 

I blushed. 

“The Stark Space Initiative is really competitive, right?" Monica asked.

"Yeah, pretty competitive," I confirmed, glad, despite my protest, to have something to talk about. "The requirements are less stringent than NASA’s, but the process was still really intense, especially the classroom instruction."

Carol nodded, lifting the pan off of the stove and switching off the burner. "How do you like it, now that you're there?"

"It's like anything, there are downsides," I admitted. "It can be really political, people jockeying for time in space or specific assignments."

"And sometimes the satellite you're working on explodes," Monica suggested.

I smiled, but I could tell it looked forced. I was surprised by the wave of feelings that kicked up. "Yeah, or that," I said, keeping my tone as neutral as I could. "But I do like it. I like the mission and I really like the people." I sat back to think about how to put it into words, looking at Carol. "It's funny, before you found me I didn't panic. I mean, I thought I was going to die. But I knew that if there was any way to save me, my crew and Mission Control would find it."

"They did," Carol said, meeting my look. "They got the military to pull a jet up alongside me to get me to land so they could get a message to me."

"I didn't think they'd find a way that was so..." I choked on the word 'beautiful'. "...uh...unique." Worst cover ever.

Carol smiled. For a moment, we just watched each other.

"Well," Monica said, after letting the moment breath. "Looks like you have dinner ready, Carol?"

"Oh...right." She'd been holding the pan for the better part of a minute; she put it down on the stove and opened a cabinet, pulling out three plates.

I didn't have time to react to that number before Monica shot up. "Have fun, you two!"

"Uh..." Carol looked surprised. "You're not staying?"

"Oh, did I not tell you? I'm going out with a friend. Shoot, I guess I forgot to mention it!" She looked to me and grinned playfully. "Sorry, Danielle - more for you, I guess."

She winked. She actually winked. And I realized: Carol Danvers’ friend was trying to set her up with me.

We ate mostly in silence. The food was good, though not remarkable - but Carol was a mix of self-conscious and proud of it, admitting she wasn't much of a cook, so I made sure to praise what I liked enthusiastically. It was a little bit adorable. 

"I guess you don't cook much, like...out in the universe?" I asked her

She laughed. "Not so much. I was never much good at anything like that - cooking and cleaning and, I don't know, laundry or whatever, and yeah, traveling through space for a few decades hasn't really built those skills up. Actually all my best recipes are Skrull delicacies at this point, and you can't get the ingredients on, you know..."

"This planet?"

We both laughed. "I'm sorry," she said. "I feel like a total weirdo sometimes." 

I nodded. "I get that. I mean, even working in space can feel kind of...strange. Like, I...I don't have a lot of furniture. Whenever I'm on Earth I'm always thinking about the next time I go up. There's not a lot of time to build a life. And I guess that's, like, a few times worse for you." 

"Yeah." She frowned. "I stayed away for a long time. For a lot of reasons, but partly because it didn't feel like home anymore. It doesn't out there, either, but...it feels like I know how to be an alien. Here I keep realizing I don't have enough clothes, or Monica makes a joke I don't get and it turns out it's a reference to something that everyone was talking about last year. Or I want to make a girl dinner, and..." She trailed off, but this time she wasn't searching for the right words; she realized what she'd just said. Her cheeks turned slightly red.

"'Make a girl dinner?'" I echoed, teasing, grinning - thrilled.

"Yeah," she said, grinning back, shaking her head, knowing she was caught. "What's wrong with that?"

"Well I don't know, Carol," I said. Her first name still didn't roll off my tongue, but this felt like a good moment to practice. "You could have said 'make a friend dinner' or 'make someone dinner' but 'a girl'...That sounds kind of like..." I didn't actually finish the sentence, setting a good-natured trap.

"Like..." She prompted, laughing and shaking her head. 

I waited expectantly, eyebrows raised. "Like…?"

She laughed again. "Like...a date?" 

I raised my hand to my mouth in faux shock. "A date? Why, Carol Danvers, is this a date?" 

I expected her to joke back, but instead she reached across the table and took my hand. "I hope so," she said, and her wide grin turned into a mischievous smile. "You tell me." 

My mouth went dry, and suddenly I was the one reaching for words. "I, um...I...”. I settled for a nod. 

“Good,” she said.

She withdrew her hand and we went back to eating and chatting. At first I found it hard to focus on the conversation; I was on a confirmed date with the golden-glowing superhero who’d plucked me out of certain death in the vacuum of space and also, you know, saved the entire world.

The awkward moment came after dinner. I insisted on doing the dishes, which Carol resisted only lightly. But with that done, I washed my hands clean and then carefully wiped them dry, completely unclear on what was going to happen next.    
  
“So,” I said brightly, replacing the dish towel, turning to face her.    
  
And the next moment she was there, pressing gently up against me, wrapping her strong arms around me. 

"I'd like to kiss you," she said softly. Once again I couldn't marshal words, but I managed to nod. 

She kissed me firmly; it was neither a gentle kiss testing the waters nor a desperate explosion of passion. Our lips met, and then her lips parted; mine followed suit to let her in as she took her time exploring my mouth. I moaned involuntarily as she pressed me closer and I felt her lips try momentarily to quirk into a smile, felt the power in her embrace redouble. After that I let out a small moan whenever she did something especially nice, training good behavior. 

We stayed like that for what felt like a minute but, when she finally pulled away, I saw had been closer to five. Looking extremely pleased with herself - probably because I was flushed and out of breath and I went limp for a moment, leaning up against her while I recovered myself, so fair enough - she pulled me over to the couch.

"I guess Monica knew what she was doing," she said softly in my ear, and then moved down to kiss my neck.

"Gonna send her a fruit basket," I murmured, biting my lip as she very gently kissed the spot where my neck and my jaw met. 

We stayed on the couch for...well, a while. We were two grown women with the house to ourselves, but nothing else happened. Well, that's not exactly true; I carefully unbuttoned her shirt and she impatiently pulled mine over my head. But when I reached a hand under the cup of her bra, she tensed. 

"Ok?" I breathed, and after a moment she nodded. 

"But...that's it?" she asked, and I nodded, kissing her forehead.

"That's it." 

We wound up lying down on the couch, holding each other tight. I relished the feel of her smooth skin and powerful body. "You're gorgeous," she whispered, and my face burned; I buried it against her neck, squealing in pleased embarrassment. 

She smiled, pleased with herself. "I haven't...it's been a while," she said, confidentially. 

"Yeah?" I asked, kissing her cheek. 

She nodded, turning her face to let me keep kissing her cheek and neck as she spoke. "I don't meet many people I can let me guard down with. I have friends out there, but it's not a big club. And there's no one I can..." She trailed off and I let her; we cuddled silently for at least a minute.

"And now here..." she started again abruptly, letting out a frustrated sigh. "All of a sudden I'm famous. People know me from the news, from TV, but I don't even know how to...how to cook. Or do my laundry properly. I haven't gone on a date in 30 years or something." 

"Well," I said gently, "you're doing pretty well so far." 

"Yeah," she said, rolling her eyes at herself. "I make bad stir fry and whine with the best of them." 

I reached up and kissed her soundly. "Being vulnerable is never unattractive," I told her. She kissed me back. 

And then she didn't stop kissing me for quite some time. 

She got a text a few hours later from Monica saying she'd be back around midnight. It was about 11:15, and I was packing up to go. "This was really nice," she said. Her guard was back up, and I could see more clearly now how nervous she was.

"Really nice," I agreed, and folded her in a hug. 

"I'll call you," she said.

"Only if you want to," I told her. 

Why did I say that? A lot of reasons. I could see how much she'd needed this, whatever this was - physical intimacy, emotional intimacy. I was happy to give it to her. I could also see how afraid she was, how complicated this felt.

I could see in her face that she understood. And I could also see how serious she was when she leaned close and kissed me once more. "I'll call," she said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's interesting to be posting this as more information comes out about Monica Rambeau in WandaVision - for the record, I do not guarantee canon compliance on that point : )


	4. Dating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I really like you."

She did call. Not just once.

Our options for date activities were a little curtailed due to her anxiety of being recognized, but we worked around it. We watched movies at my place, hung out with Monica at hers (my initial impression, that Monica ruled, was confirmed); we went on hikes, with her wearing a ballcap and sunglasses.    
  
It was pleasant and comfortable; there were no more hasty makeovers or desperate consultations on my outfits, because a lot of nights yoga pants and a tank were the most appropriate apparel. 

We tried going on a real date exactly once - the plan was a tapas restaurant and romantic stroll in a nice downtown park. Early in the night, I got why she was reluctant to go out in public. She kept her hat and sunglasses on in the restaurant, but someone recognized her and came up to shake her hand and take a selfie. She handled it gracefully enough, but that led to the whole restaurant whispering and staring. A man and a woman on a date came up together next; mercifully, the restaurant staff stepped in at that point, with a manager standing by and playing goalie while we ate. We tipped very well. 

We tried the park, a busy city park instead of the more remote locations we usually frequented. But after the third person blatantly filmed us as we walked by, I squeezed Carol’s arm, and she nodded, lips pursed. “Let’s get out of here,” she murmured. “Sorry about this.”

“It’s not your fault,” I told her.

And at just that moment a young man walking toward us on the path started staring, and then his jaw dropped. “Holy shit!” he shouted. “Captain Marvel!”    
  
She forced a smile; he came right over and grabbed her hand, pumping it up and down in an enthusiastic shake. “Holy shit, I can’t believe it’s you!” He turned to me. “This is Captain Marvel!” Now I forced a smile, but he shook his head. “Your friend is Captain Marvel!” he repeated, as though I didn’t understand. 

She dropped his hand, and grabbed mine. “She’s not just my friend,” she said. “We’re on a date.” My eyes popped open, and I looked at her wide-eyed.

He laughed; it sounded good-natured, but it was hard not to feel like he was laughing at the idea we were dating. “Captain fucking Marvel,” he said, shaking his head.    
  
“Have a nice night,” Carol said, not especially pleasantly, pulling me forward.   
  
“Captain fucking Marvel!” he called after us, helpfully.    
  
“New plan,” she said softly. “Let’s get THE FUCK out of here.” 

“Sorry,” I told her.

She made a face. “What are you sorry for?  _ I’m _ sorry. I hate this celebrity thing. I want to just tell guys like that to fuck off. Back in the day I would have. Now I feel like a role model, like if I say the wrong thing they’re going to come after the Avengers or something.” 

“Why…” I bit my lip. “Why’d you say we were on a date?”

She grimaced. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t make it weird. I just...didn’t like the way he called me your friend. Like we could never be dating. Like ‘Captain Marvel’ could never be a lesbian, and if she was she would never date a trans woman.” 

“Pretty sure he made it weird,” I reassured her, and we fell silent as I called a ride-share (the driver, mercifully, didn’t recognize her).

In the car, I could tell Carol was frustrated, but I couldn’t stop smiling. “What?” she asked after a few minutes, a quizzical smile breaking through her annoyance. “Was that fun for you?”

“Very much no,” I said. “It’s just…”   
  
“What?”   
  
“No one’s ever...claimed me like that. Stood up for me.”    
  
She kissed me. “You should get used to it.”    


* * *

“Can I ask you a really stupid question?” I asked later that night, as we sat on my couch, me reading, her experimenting with the phone Monica had activated for her.

“Sure,” she said absently. “Twitter seems bad,” she added, shaking her head.

“Twitter is very bad and you should never go there,” I told her. 

She looked up. “What’s your question?”

“Why...me?” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Why you what?”    
  
“Why are you dating me? You could have literally anyone.” 

“I don’t want 'literally anyone.'” She leaned back on the couch, taking my question seriously. “Well...if you want the truth, it’s three reasons, and they’re all pretty uninteresting.”   
  
I waved her on. “Let’s hear it.”

“One, you’re hot.” I rolled my eyes, and she waved an eyebrow in response. “True.”

“I’m not...like...you could have ANYONE.” 

“I don’t want anyone,” she repeated. “One, you’re hot.”   
  
“Fine.” I granted the point, at least for this conversation.

“Two, we met and talked and you were friendly and we had things in common, and I think that what you’re doing with your life is pretty cool.” 

“Ok,” I said. “Seems like baseline stuff but I’ll allow it.”

“You’d be surprised,” she said. “And third, you asked. Nicely.”   
  
“I asked?”    
  
She nodded. “Nicely.” 

I had trouble accepting this. “You must get asked out all the time.”

She laughed. “By who? There were a few skrulls who developed an interest after I left Earth, but they weren’t for me. And other than that…” She shook her head. “Everyone I know is...it’s all business. We work together. Yeah, I’ve gotten propositioned. Once I got here I started getting mail and like…” She made a face and waved vaguely. “Social...media...messages.” I could guess what she meant. “But there hasn’t been one nice, hot girl who I’d actually spoken to who asked me out. Other than you.” 

“Mmm. So the only reason we’re dating, is…”   
  
“Well, one of three.”    
  
“Sure, but the key reason is...I’m the only option.”

I kept a straight face until she threw a pillow at me, and then we both laughed. 

And when I left that night, we kissed and she pulled me close, and whispered in my ear: “Number four: I really like you.” 

* * *

Time passed; I was on paid medical leave for twelve weeks, company policy after an accident like the Adventure mission. I spent time with Carol, caught up on books and tv shows, saw my therapist a lot. 

At the eleven week mark, I got called in to SSI, and met with Cedric Green, the associate director of the astronaut program, and Faye, who winked at me as we shook hands. 

"Specialist Collins," Green said, all business as usual. "We're speaking to the whole Adventure crew, but we wanted to start with you. I hope your leave has been recuperative." He really used words like recuperative - kind of a robot, but a pretty good boss. "Our first launch since the incident is in twenty one days. If you feel up to it - if and only if - we hoped you might be willing to take part." 

I sat back in my chair; they let the silence stretch. I wasn't sure how I felt. "This is a PR thing, I guess," I said, looking at Faye.

They nodded. "We want to show that we're getting right back on the rocket-horse. What better way to show that things are fine than having one of the Adventure astronauts on our first flight?" 

Green explained some details about the mission - completely routine satellite upkeep. When he finished, the silence stretched out again. They both waited patiently. 

"Can I take some time to think about it?" 

Green nodded. "Take a day or two. We'll need to finalize the crew after that and if you can't make a decision, we'll need to leave you off this one. Which would be completely fine."

Faye walked me out. "Was this your idea?" I asked. 

They grinned. "No, it was Green's idea. Or that's what I let him think. I wanted to give you first crack, in case you wanted it. He means it though, it's no problem if you want more time. Now." They stopped and put their hands on their hips. "Collins. Spill."

"I, um..." I knew what they meant, and I couldn't help it; I giggled and blushed. 

"I knew it!" they exclaimed, clapping delightedly. "What's it like? What's SHE like?"

"She is shockingly down to earth," I admitted. "It's the chillest, um..." The word relationship didn't feel like a good idea. "Chillest time I've ever had with someone I'm dating. She's allergic to publicity, so she never wants to go anywhere."

"Hmm..." Faye looked concerned on my behalf. “Is that fun for you?”

"No, it's perfect," I said with a laugh. "We're skipping straight to the sweatshirt and yoga pants phase." 

Faye grinned. "Yes, I love that phase! Now I'm sorry, I'm SORRY, I have to ask...how is IT?"

I knew what she meant, and I blushed harder. "Aw, come on..."

"You owe me, Collins. You owe me so much, you have no idea how much trouble I got in for 'losing' you the night of the ceremony. Help a pal out!" 

"Well...we haven't. Exactly." 

"What!” You have that righteous super-booty at your disposal, and nothing?" I felt like I should be upset at this description of Carol, but Faye had earned a degree of leeway, and, I mean, they weren't wrong.

"She's...cautious. It's funny, she's suave as hell, but..." I shook my head. "I mean her life has been crazy. She hasn't dated a lot. She wants to move slowly. And honestly? It's nice. Not that I don't...I mean I DO." Faye nodded eagerly, making it clear they understood the unspoken ends of those sentences, could infer the verb 'want.' "But it's...sweet." 

They nodded. "And...where is it heading?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean...are you her girlfriend? Are you going to be?" 

"No,” I said firmly.

“Aw, come on,” they said. “Never say never. I saw the way she was looking at you at that party.” 

“No,” I repeated. “She’s…” I looked around; we were alone in the hallway. “Listen, I trust you, Faye, but your whole job is talking to the media. Really, truly, seriously, can I trust you with a big secret? Life and death stuff.”    
  
They reached out and took me by the shoulders, looking me squarely in the eye. “Danielle, vicariously dating Carol Danvers aka Captain Marvel is the single best thing that has ever happened to me, and if it means you can tell me all I solemnly swear I will resign my position and go back to working at Starbucks before I breathe a word of it to another human being."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help but smile - and I also knew she meant it. "She's leaving again," I said. "There's trouble..." I waved vaguely up into the sky.

"Fudge! When? For how long?"

"She’s leaving in a few days," I said, and I felt the sadness I’d kept carefully tamped down rising into my throat. If it rose much further I'd start to cry. "And she doesn't know. Months. Or years."

Faye's eyes goggled. "YEARS?!"

I shrugged. "Like, one or two. It's a big universe. She has a lot of places to be. A lot of people who are counting on her."

"Well what about the person on Earth who’s counting on her?!"

I smiled sadly. "You, you mean?" I cracked.

They grinned sheepishly at that. "Yeah, exactly,” they said. “Oh, and I guess this also kind of sucks for you."

I shook my head. "Faye, we're just...not that serious.” They crossed their arms skeptically; I shrugged. “It's been really fun. She's really nice. The timing's bad." I shrugged. "Not every love story is written in the stars."

"Danielle,” they said, “yours literally began in orbit.”

I didn’t have a ready answer to that.


	5. Parting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...this, this was the thing, the thing I'd been carrying inside. I spat it out like a hot stone."

Carol’s departure was upon me very quickly. She got busy during her last few days on Earth; she was visiting people like Pepper Potts in New York and someone named Nick Fury in "an undisclosed location." She brought me a glossy photo of Pepper Potts, signed "Sorry I'm straight! xoxo" and I turned bright red under her amused smirk and told her I was never telling her another celebrity crush. It was only after she left shortly after to fly under her own power to Wakanda that I regretted that joke, realizing that it was likely true.

She was leaving Sunday morning, an unheralded and unceremonious departure known only to the people she'd contacted directly. Saturday night I came over. I chatted with Monica while Carol cooked, but then she made herself scarce.

We ate together at the modest kitchen table, like always. Carol's cooking again, nothing special, but I loved that she loved doing it. I wasn't sure what we'd do afterwards, and I sat at the table awkwardly as she cleared up.

"Come on," she said, throwing on a coat and a baseball cap, and heading for the front door. This was a surprise. After that one disastrous time, anytime we “went out” was a big occasion. I followed her.

"So what's the plan for tonight?" I asked. "You hinted." Indeed, she’d been very coy about her plans to make our last night together special. 

She smiled. "Danielle, I haven't been a very good..." She hesitated over the word for what we were to each before settling on "...date.” I was a little disappointed, but I sympathized. I never knew what to say either. “Not just tonight. This whole time."

"You did save my life," I reminded her, smiling. 

She laughed. "You know what I mean. I don't take you to the movies, I don't take you dancing. I cook for you, but not very well, and I haven't even..." She hesitated again. There were options:  _ taken my pants off. Taken your pants off _ .  _ Satisfied the deep desire you feel welling inside you sometimes when I hold you or you see me relax or smile at you or walk across a room. _

"You have a pretty weird life," I told her. "I get it. And I've had a really good time with you. I don't even really like dancing." 

"So you do like movies," she said. It was a joke, but she looked sad. I rolled my eyes, trying to be playful. But, yeah, the truth was I did. And I liked going thrifting, and bookstores, and coffee shops, and art museums and hanging out in libraries. And we'd done none of those things, and I had been thinking about it. 

"Well, I thought I'd take you on one date, one real date, before I went away," she said. We'd gone down the stairs and out into the parking lot behind Monica's building. She went to the center of the lot and turned to face me.

"Ok...are we..." I looked around at the quiet parking lot. She was just watching me. "Are we...there?" 

She stepped closer. She wrapped strong arms around my waist and then lifted me off my feet, carrying me like she had in space when she saved me. I let her; more precisely, my cheeks burned with delight. "Not yet," she whispered in my ear. And then, taking on suddenly just a hint of a golden glow, she lifted us both into the sky. 

"Holy crap holy crap holy crap," I said, half terrified, half delighted, as she rose steadily but swiftly up. I could see the roof of Monica's building, then the whole block, then the whole neighborhood. I'd never loved heights, rollercoasters, that kind of thing, and my body dropped a whole lot of adrenaline in my bloodstream, but astronaut training had given me tools to deal with that. I made myself keep breathing, and nestled closer to Carol, who held me securely in her arms. I knew, intellectually, that she was very strong, but it was easy to forget she was actually so powerful she could hold me forever and never tire, never let me drop. I felt that keenly now. I liked it. 

She looked into my eyes, sheepish. "Is this ok?" she asked, coming to rest at a height well below commercial air traffic but still dizzyingly high. We were about level with the tops of the skyscrapers which were still several miles away downtown, but suddenly seemed close enough to touch. 

We made eye contact. I have no idea what she read in my eyes, which were tear-streaked from the wind and probably half mad with a mix of exhilaration and terror. She grinned, and I grinned back. 

"This is..." Now I was the one who couldn’t finish a sentence. Instead I put my hands against her cheeks and pulled her down to kiss her soundly. She was solid and warm, and if I closed my eyes we could have been back on Monica's couch, or maybe on a boat somewhere, bobbing slowly up and down as Carol countered the wind and air currents with...with whatever kept her miraculously in the air. 

It was a long, slow kiss, modulating from slow and tender to intense and desperate and then back down to tender. I shivered, and she smiled. "Let's get you somewhere out of the wind," she said, and then we set off like a shot across the sky.

We settled at one of the downtown skyscrapers; there was an observation area with a railing, but she set us down outside of it, right at the edge of the abyss. I squealed and snuggled close to her, avoiding looking right down. She laughed and smiled, stroking my hair. 

We sat like that for a few minutes, looking out over the city. It was peaceful, beautiful even, but mostly I was just aware of Carol's upcoming absence. The silence felt heavier and heavier as my thoughts circled that one awful idea over and over, faster and faster.

"I'm..." I blurted, and then choked on the words. 

Carol turned to look at me. "What?"

"I'm really going to miss you," I forced out. 

Her face fell, not at my words, I guessed, but at the amount of hurt and grief I’d let into my tone. 

"I'm going to miss you too," she said. "I wouldn't go if it wasn't important..." 

I knew that - and for some reason, her saying it gave me a sudden spike of anger. Did she think I didn't understand who she was, what she did? "Obviously it's important," I told her. "That doesn't mean it doesn't suck." 

Again it came out harsher than I meant. She turned to face me. "I know it does. There's just...nothing I can do about that." 

She wasn't understanding me, and it was infuriating. "I don't want you to do anything about it," I said. "I just...I'm just saying that it sucks. I mean I'm really sad you're going away. Don't you feel the same way?"

"Of course I do!" And now she sounded slightly angry. "You think this isn't hard for me?" 

"You don't act like it's hard for you," I told her, and this, this was the thing, the thing I'd been carrying inside. I spat it out like a hot stone. She'd told me gravely about her departure, gently, like you'd tell a child her dog was going to a farm upstate. She was worried I'd be upset, so I made myself not upset. But I was. The truth was, I felt like a fling, like I was a convenience, an experience to be consumed and forgotten. 

"Well, it is!" She stood and stepped back from the ledge, pacing back and forth. "It's really hard, Danielle! Do you have any idea...I've kissed three girls in my life, and the last one was fifteen years ago and she had purple skin. Do you really think this didn't mean anything to me?" 

One of those words caught my ear. "‘Didn't,’" I repeated, turning away from her to look back out over the city, folding my hands in my lap. "‘Did not’. Past tense. So we're over. I was wondering." 

"What?! God, Danielle..." She started to glow gold, and I half expected her to fly off and leave me. I suddenly became aware that I was on top of a skyscraper and that if she left me alone it might be some time before I could get anywhere else. But instead, she flew in front of me, coming to rest slightly below the ledge and hovering in the air so that we were at eye level. She reached into her coat pocket and threw down a small grey cube of plastic onto the ledge beside me. 

"What's this?" I demanded.

"It's a communicator," she said. "Holographic, Skrull tech. It's the same kind of device I use to talk to the Avengers when I'm offworld." She crossed her arms and looked away. "I was going to give it to you tonight." 

I opened my mouth and realized I had no idea what to say. I picked the device; I could feel switches and buttons that blended into the grey body in the low light. She drifted a little further away, and looked down at her shoes. "I didn't know how to talk about it. I didn't even know if you wanted to...to do long-distance. Like I said, I've been a shitty...girlfriend." 

She'd said the word we'd both been dancing around, and my heart leapt. "You're not," I said. "You're a pretty nice girlfriend, actually."

She looked up, and suddenly she had a little mischievous smile again. "You're just saying that because I said girlfriend." 

I laughed. She drifted closer and took my hands, looking more serious again. "I really like you," she said. "And I'm going because I have responsibilities and...and I have to, Danielle, I have to! But I'm not doing it lightly, and I'm not doing it because I don't care." 

I felt a sob well up in my chest. I pulled her close and she came easily, standing on nothing as she was. "I know," I said, and the sob found its way out, and suddenly I was crying. "I know, sweetheart. I'm so sorry. I know." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to know what someone's thinking. Sometimes you want to be kind and you push your own needs way deep down. Sometimes you care but you don't even realize it doesn't look that way. Anyway, Carol and Danielle were able to get through that disconnect. 
> 
> Carol's going away and this is the end of our story for now - but there will be an epilogue next week!


	6. Coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You up?"

Carol's departure was quiet; Monica drove us out of the city a little ways, not far; there was a state park, a nice spot where we’d gone for walks, where there would be a bare minimum of privacy. Carol wore jeans and a sweatshirt over her uniform, her costume, her outfit, whatever you want to call it. We kissed, she and Monica hugged; Monica cried, standing silent as tears ran down her face and Carol, in a small clearing in the woods, stepped out of her civvies and flew up into the air.

Monica and I hugged. “I feel like a little kid again,” she said. “I keep saying goodbye to her.” I just held her, and drove us both home. 

I told Faye yes, I'd go on the mission. My tribute to Carol; I couldn't go as far or as fast, but I'd go as high as I could. 

The night before my launch, the communicator she'd given me buzzed; I had a message, text only.

Carol: You up?  
Danielle: omg  
Carol: What?  
Danielle: haha you never had to learn texting etiquette, did you  
Carol: ???  
Danielle: you up? is text for 'wanna have sex?'   
Carol: Yikes  
Carol: Really sad I missed out on all that great dating I could have done on Earth.  
Danielle: hey : P  
Carol: Anyway you clearly are up, so I'm calling you  
Danielle: wow you really are from the 90s  
Carol: This is one of those internet jokes that I don't understand and that's fine

A moment later the communicator chimed, and with the press of a button I was talking to Carol, in the form of a small greyish hologram. 

"Hey," she said. "How are you?"

"Hey yourself," I said, smiling. "I can't talk long."

"Need your sleep before the big mission!" she said, with a big grin. "That's fine. I just wanted to say good luck, baby." 

"'Baby,' huh?" I asked. 

"Trying it out," she said. "Too much?"

"I don't think so," I said. “I think I like it." 

"How are you, seriously?" 

I nodded. "I'm good. I've got nerves, after..."

"Totally," she said quickly, relieving me of the need to talk or think about how we'd first met. "That's natural." 

"I wish you were here to hold me tonight," I told her. "It would make it easier to sleep." 

"Me too," she said, smiling. "To hold you, among other things."

"Oh, sweetie," I answered, stifling a laugh. "And we wasted all that time while we were in the same solar system."

"Didn't waste that last night," she said. "After we talked on the skyscraper, and I brought you home and..."

"Aaah!" I buried my head in my hands to hide my blush. 

She laughed. "Sorry, baby. You just look so cute when I tease you."

"It's a two week mission," I reminded her. "No personal items, so the communicator's staying here."

"I know," she said. "I'll miss you. More than usual. Call me when you're back."

I nodded. "First thing." 

The words 'I love you' found themselves on the tip of my tongue. There was an awkward pause, and I somehow knew she was thinking the same thing. 

"Goodnight," she said, before I could muster the courage. 

"Goodnight!" I said back, and the call cut off.

It was ok. It still felt just a little early for those words. 

But I had a feeling they’d feel real nice in two weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for Danielle and Carol for now!
> 
> Thanks for coming along for this ride. This story began with me thinking "what if Captain Marvel saved you O.O" which turned into "what if Captain Marvel dated you" and eventually grew into what you've just read. It was a huge amount of fun to write. Thanks for reading and I hope you had fun too!


End file.
